Part 7 (1/2)
Marian felt as if a breeze would blow her away. ”Maybe I should watch the musical again so I'm prepared for the jokes.”
”How about tonight?”
Amy groaned. ”We watched that insipid Lifetime movie last week. I don't think I can take The Music Man this week.”
Hemma touched her arm and Marian thought she would melt.
Melt not from the heat, but from the tenderness. ”Are you okay?”
”I've always hung out at the library. I love books, I love finding books. It always seemed like whatever I could dream I could find at the library. And ever since I was a girl I thought librarians were the guardians of all the mysteries of time. It never occurred to me . . .”
She had to be crimson by now, but Hemma was smiling at her so encouragingly. ”What never occurred to you?”
”That I could be one of the guardians.”
Hemma arched an eyebrow and for one of those rare moments over the course of the last seven years, the universe had seemed made up of just the two of them. ”This is you.”
All these years later, Marian had to acknowledge, Hemma still saw her for who she was.
She checked the doneness of the custard and inhaled the rich, creamy aroma. Hemma's favorite dessert was perfect to celebrate the day Marian had decided to go all the way with her career as a librarian.
43.
An M.L.S. combined with her hitherto useless history degree and her years of experience could net her a job in collection development and perhaps eventually the management of a specialized historical collection. Even being a library manager-administrative headaches and all-had a certain appeal.
She really would be a guardian then, a keeper of dreams. Hemma had shown her that she could have that future. It was a gift and she would always love Hemma for it.
”What is that? It smells divine!” Hemma took the covered pan from Marian and sniffed again. ”Flan?”
”Chocolate almond flan, and still warm the way you like it.”
”You are the most wonderful woman.” Hemma hurried to the kitchen. ”The pasties are just about done.”
”Pasties!” Marian worried abruptly that she'd forgotten it was a special occasion. Pasties were her favorite, her absolute favorite.
Amy came skipping down the stairs. ”Heya. And hamburger milk gravy.”
”Oh, what have I done to deserve this?”
Amy skittered to a stop halfway across the living room. ”Forgot something. I'll be right back down.” Marian continued through the house to the kitchen.
Hemma was flushed as she lifted a cookie sheet from the oven.
”They're done.”
”Done and perfect,” Marian breathed. The half-moon pockets were golden on top and brown at the edges. The savory aroma of shredded beef, onions and potatoes made her feel a bit faint. ”My pie crust will never be as good as yours no matter how much you try to teach me.”
Hemma's back was to her when she answered. ”You make great pies.”
”They'll never beat yours. I can't wait until the berries come in this summer. I'll pick all you want.” She got herself a gla.s.s of water.
44.
When she turned back she intercepted a strange look between Hemma and Amy.
Not sure what was up with her friends, Marian held back her announcement until they were all at the table. Over a plate loaded with a pasty, gravy, steamed broccoli and corn-on-the-cob, she said, ”I'm going to get my M.L.S.”
Amy grinned in mid-chew. ”Brava, girlfriend!”
Hemma paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. ”Honey, that's wonderful. When did you decide?”
”Yesterday, when my period wouldn't start.”
”Are you sure large life decisions should be made by hormones?”
Amy licked b.u.t.ter off her fingers.
”I've had plenty of non-hormonal time to think it through.”
Marian frowned. ”Now I'm not sure why I waited so long. I'd rather be done now than just beginning.”
”You're a look-before-you-leap girl. It's exactly what you need to do.” Hemma salted her corn. ”It's important to take professional aspirations . . . seriously.”
Amy excused herself for another beer.
”It's thanks to you, you know.” Marian wanted to say more. She wanted to say there had never been anyone else in her life who had reached inside her and flipped on the poise, aspiration and determi-nation the way that Hemma had.
”You'd have gotten there on your own.”
”The pasties are incredible, thank you. What a treat.”